


Boston in the Fall

by HermioneGirl96



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, No Plot/Plotless, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, Past Tense, Recreational Drug Use, VeggieTales References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-05 01:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20480888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermioneGirl96/pseuds/HermioneGirl96
Summary: Shitty gets high and decides to treat the last verse of the VeggieTales song "The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything" as a bucket list.





	Boston in the Fall

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Off-screen recreational drug use. 
> 
> I did very minimal research on spark plugs for this story. Please don't lick one in real life.

One day in late spring of his senior year at Samwell, Jack walked into the Haus to find Shitty naked in the living room. This part was normal. Less normal was the fact that Shitty had what appeared to be graded papers spread out beneath him, covering the floor, and he was painting something that looked more or less like daisies on a big red rubber ball. 

He smelled like weed, too. Of course. 

“Euh, Shits?” said Jack. “What’s up?”

“_Brah_,” said Shitty, turning his upper body toward Jack and emphasizing the word like it was extremely important. “I’m going to Boston in the fall.” 

“Um, yeah, you are,” said Jack. “What does that have to do with painting flowers on a bouncy ball?”

“It’s the VeggieTales song,” said Shitty, as though that explained everything. 

“The what now?” Jack asked. 

“Did you not grow up being taught Bible stories by a bunch of singing vegetables?” Shitty asked, turning back to the ball and dipping his paintbrush back into the white paint that sat on a bibliography next to him. 

Jack came around to the direction in which Shitty was facing and made a face. “Um, no, I did not.” 

Shitty waved the paintbrush. Luckily, paint only splattered onto his body and the papers beneath him—not that paint could really make the Haus floor or furniture any worse at this point, not when everything had come into contact with tub juice as often as it had—which seemed to indicate that the papers had probably been spread out by someone more sober than Shitty. Jack suspected Bitty. 

“Sometime when I’m sober,” said Shitty, “I’ll explain the connection between singing vegetables and the kyriarchy, but right now all you need to know is that there’s a song about pirates who don’t do anything, and it fucking speaks to me, brah. So I’ve decided I need to do all the things those pirates haven’t done. Not the first couple verses, of course, ’cause the first one requires travel and the second one requires a pirate ship, but the last verse. I wanted to do the third verse, too, but Bitty refused to make mashed potatoes when he found out I wanted to throw them up against the wall, and Dex won’t tell me where to find a rooster, so I can only do the last verse. But I’m going to make it all the way through that one! Nursey’s at the Murder Shop-and-Shop right now buying yogurt so I can bathe in it. He’s the only one who understands the importance of following your instincts when you’re high.” Shitty gave a put-upon sigh.

“So what else is in this last verse, Shits?” Jack asked. He knew the only thing to do when Shitty was high was to go along with everything that wasn’t life-threatening. 

“Licking a spark plug, kissing a stink bug, painting daisies on a big red rubber ball, bathing in yogurt, wearing leggings, and going to Boston in the fall,” Shitty recited, ticking them off on his fingers. 

“Shitty. You’re _not_ going to lick a spark plug. You could get electrocuted.”

Shitty rolled his eyes. “Yeah, if it’s a working one. Dex had some dead ones lying around. I already licked one. I’m fine.” 

“Do you really want to kiss a stink bug?” Jack asked. 

Shitty shrugged and started on another daisy. “I mean, without the song, it wouldn’t exactly be on my bucket list, but I already did that too. I mean, I think I did. I looked up stink bugs on Wikipedia and found something on the quad that looked like the pictures, but I’m open to the idea that I misidentified the bug. I’m counting it, though.” 

“Are you going in order?” Jack asked. 

“Yep,” said Shitty. “Hopefully Nursey will be back with the yogurt by the time I’m done painting daisies on this ball, and then after I bathe in yogurt and then get rid of the yogurt it’ll be time for leggings. Lardo’s gonna borrow some from one of her tall friends. And then I’ll move to Boston in the fall.” 

“You’re really committed to this, aren’t you, Shits?”

“It’s the fucking vegetables, brah,” said Shitty. “You gotta commit.” 

Jack frowned. “I thought they were instruments of the kyriarchy.” 

“They _are_,” said Shitty. “But they _sing_.”

Jack shrugged. “Okay,” he said, and then he headed for the stairs. He’d check on Shitty later, for sure, but he wasn’t sure how much more of this conversation he could take.


End file.
